Ain't Nobody Gonna Mess With Me
by Jones
Summary: Life on the streets is hard. Living on the streets will harden you, as it did a young Chibodee. Hardly my best work, unfortunately.


Ain't Nobody Gonna Mess With Me

By Jonesy

http://www.rockettownonline.com/~jonesy

  
  


On Earth, away from the wealthy colonies, many people lived in poverty. In Neo America, even, this was the case. People who were simply too poor to migrate to space were left back on Earth to fend for themselves on an unforgiving world. In New York City, one of the once great cities of Neo America, a little boy with outrageous blue hair was alone on the streets, forced to steal food just to survive. Since that dreaded day at the circus when he'd been separated from his mother, he'd become a simple street urchin in a city full of them. The problem was, he was small, and there were those who were bigger that preyed on homeless orphans just like him. Weak, helpless, and alone: he was easy prey.

Chibodee glared at the older boy, balling his fists. It wasn't fair! How could he take away his food just because he was _bigger_ than Chibodee? What gave him the right?

The older boy saw Chibodee's intense look and misread it. "Whaaaaat," he drawled in his thick New York accent, "the little baby gonna cry now?"

If little Chibodee hadn't been pissed before, that was certainly enough to anger him. As it was, though, it pushed him over the edge. "Give it BACK!" he screamed, lunging after the taller boy. "It's MINE! YOU CAN'T HAVE IT!" He swung his fists wildly, hoping to connect. Unfortunately for Chibodee, his arms were shorter than the boy's legs, and was kicked in the stomach. Hard.

The boy laughed and turned to his friends, leaving Chibodee kneeling over the street, vomiting. "C'mon, guys, let's leave this little shit alone. I don't like hitting _babies_."

Chibodee saw red. Here he was, minding his own business when this big... _bully_ came and stole his dinner, his _only_ meal in days, and he had the gall to call him a baby? He dragged himself to his feet, settling into a sloppy fighting stance. He _wasn't_ gonna let this bully get away with this. Little Chibodee'd been pushed around all his life, but it was going to stop right _now_.

"Stop right the hell NOW, you arrogant bastard!" Chibodee shouted as he leaped forward, punching the older boy in the stomach as he turned around. When he bent over in pain, Chibodee took advantage of the fact that the boy's hands were clutching at his midsection, and rammed his knee into the older boy's nose as hard as he could, eliciting a loud cracking sound. Now that the older boy's nose was broken and blood poured out freely, he again moved his hands toward a rough approximation of where he thought Chibodee was. He wasn't gonna let this little kid beat him!

The older boy's "friends," upon seeing their comrade taken down by a small child, ran off. Whether they left to ridicule him or out of fear was debatable, but they were gone nonetheless.

"You little shit! I'm gonna _kill_ you!" the boy screamed, lunging toward the smaller boy. Chibodee, however, was faster, and easily dodged the attack. He spun on his heel and dashed behind the boy, forcing him to turn around. The boy was met with a fist in his eye, then another glanced off his jaw and another caught his cheekbone as Chibodee punched relentlessly. The younger boy continued to punch despite his own bruising knuckles, intent on knocking the bully down, despite the latter's cries of pain.

Chibodee ceased to pummel the older boy when he collapsed to the ground and curled into the fetal position. "S-stop!" he wailed through his tears, "stop, p-please! I'm sorry!" He turned his head slightly and glanced through a blackened and swollen eye at Chibodee, who wore a grim expression. "I-I'm sorry... I'll give it back..."

Chibodee got to his feet, then bent down to help the older boy up and looked him in the eye, "Now, don'cha ever mess with me again, 'kay? Don'cha ever mess with Chibodee Crocket again." The boy nodded numbly, then turned and staggered off. A smile crept across Chibodee's face as he watched the boy leave. Not once had he hit the boy from behind, nor did he kick him when he was down. He fought fair and _won_ fair. Yeah, ain't no one ever gonna mess with Chibodee Crocket no more. And with that, he snatched up his meager meal and wandered off.

  
  


_Author's note:   
This was loosely based on Chibodee's recollection in episode 2, when he was scouted by some people from the colony. There had to be a transition from the helpless boy that was separated from his mother at the circus to the street-fighting urchin, right? This is my take on it. Oh, and there's a bit of inspiration from **Ender's Game** by Orson Scott Card._


End file.
